The Triple T
by EternalInspiration
Summary: When Craig gets a tattoo, Tweak isn't so... Creek. Oneshot. (A/N: Many apologies for just everything. It's been a long time since I posted anything, so I'm rusty at this.)


"Dude! That shit looks so awesome!" clamored a hazelnut-haired sixteen-year-old wearing a red hoodie. "I want one, too!" Clyde Donovan kept on gawking like a child seeing a brand new toy behind the windows of a toy store.

"Yeah, actually looks great," joined in a well-dressed, ebony-skinned teen, about the same age as the brunette in front of him. "But, where'd you find a place to get something like that…" Token Black crossed his arms, staring with a fine mixture of both amazement and chagrin.

A shaking blond with messy (soft) hair and incorrectly buttoned mossy-green dress shirt (these, along with his fairly lanky profile, contributed to his boyfriend's affectionate view of him as a sunflower) just stood (well squirmed more likely) to the side. Tweek Tweak was just as engrossed on the tattooed skin as his two other friends, but oddly, he didn't make a single comment about it yet.

"Hey! Clyde, what the hell are you doing?!" hissed a seventeen-year-old, who wore an ocean blue chullo, but continued lifting his violet jacket to reveal something embedded on his stomach — the tattoo. "Don't fucking poke it!" Craig Tucker swatted his friend's hand away then flipped his signature middle finger.

"Aw! Why not!" pouted Clyde, tilting his head like a kid asking his parents an awkward question.

"Cause I don't want your damn stupidity ruining this magnificent masterpiece!" Craig instantly lowered his sweater before continuing flipping off the brunette.

As Clyde kept up his childish antics and Craig giving the "I-don't-give-a-fuck-just-don't-touch-me" glares with his irises carved from pure ice, Token noticed the long silence of a certain twitchy spaz. "Tweak, you okay? You've been standing there for a while now…" the black friend neared the mute blond. "Tweak?"

"GAH!" The constantly paranoid teen jumped as high as the Burj Khalifa. "OH JESUS! DON'T HURT ME!" As a natural reaction of his, he convulsed in tremendous twitched, shakes, and grabbed on tightly to his messy mop of hair, pulling several strands (accelerating the speed of his natural baldness in the future).

Token slowly withdrew his hand and backed away a little bit. "Sorry, Tweek. You were just so quiet… Anyways," he tried to switch the topic to the matter at hand, "what do you think of Craig's new tattoo?"

Tweek's dilated beryl eyes closed for a minute and then he breathed. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in… "Gah! U-u-um… I-I —ngh!— it l-looks c-cool."

"Really? You sure don't look excited about it."

"Y-Yeah! I d-d-do! It's —ngh!— r-really awesome!" Tweek's eyes squinted and his hands curled into fists at his sides. He raised his shoulders: a stern expression set on his oval-shaped face.

Token held up both his hands to signal the blond to calm down and provide a fraction of self-defense in case he pushed the wrong button. "Okay, whatever you say, Tweek." A nervous laugh. "Yeah, I agree with you. It's cool how well it turned out."

Sensing that he might've done something wrong (_'Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!' _he mentally chanted like a monk begging for divine forgiveness), Tweak took in another deep breath and tried to find his "center". Now, he returned to his regular shakes and twitches perfectly timed after exactly one minute. "Agh! U-Um… S-Sorry a-about that —ngh!— Token…"

"It's okay. I shouldn't have pushed something irrelevant…"

Soon, an uncomfortable silence fell between the two as they decided to just stare at the other two arguing now about Red Racer.

"Woah," Clyde disrupted his mini-feud with Craig and jerked slightly in confusion. "Did I miss something? Why are you two so quiet? Starting to creep me out a bit…" Shaking his head, Clyde returned to his usual hyper, optimistic self and quickly conversed with Token. "Dude! Why don't you have a tattoo?! You're fucking rich!"

The rich teen cringed at the notion that he'll **willingly **get a tattoo! ('_Not even in your fucking dreams, Clyde,_' Token mentally resolved. He was still one of the few people who still held on to some decency and moral beliefs.) Sighing and giving a wary look, Token started to walk away as soon the school bell rung, not wanting to indulge his crybaby-ish best friend any longer. "Hey! Wait up, Token!" Clyde ran after him, easily catching up with the only black teen in South Park High School. They left Craig and Tweek in the locker room. (The only place where teen males can strip **and not** be considered gay; also the only place for Craig to not get caught showing off his tattoo.)

"ARGH! C-Come on, C-C-Craig! W-w-we're gonna be late!" the frantic blonde pulled on his hair and then prepared to break into a sprint. However,

"Wait, Tweak." Craig gripped his said boyfriend's wrist firmly to keep him still for even a single second.

"GAH!" Tweak turned his head, panic scribbled all over his face. "Wha-what is it, C-Craig? We better —ngh!— hurry or else we're gonna get detention again!"

The excessively tall male raised his middle finger with his free hand — not at Tweak but at the metal door. "Fuck being late. Fuck detention. This is important, Tweak." His sapphire eyes held a steady stare at Tweak's emerald ones, mesmerizing the spaz without fail. When the twitches lowered, the charcoal-haired male took it as a sign to go ahead and sit the saffron-haired ticking time bomb on the wooden bench. "So what do you think of my new tattoo, Tweak?" Craig asked nonchalantly but in secret honesty, he was sincerely curious to know his boyfriend's opinion.

Tweak fidgeted, clasping his hands and fiddling with his thumbs. Two minutes passed and Tweak still looked to the side, trying to avoid the pressure of that icy yet charming gaze. Finally…"U-Um… OH GOD! I don't know, Craig! THIS IS TOO MUCH PRESSURE!"

"Tweak."

"OKAY! OKAY! ARGH! I THINK YOUR TATTOO —ngh!— LOOKS SCARY!" 

"Scary?" Craig was taken aback. Scary? Well that's a fucking letdown. '_Damn._' He shouldn't have let that bastard McCormick talk him into this… Now whenever he'll undresses for P.E. (they have the same P.E. class), Tweak will freak out and start avoiding him…

When silence squeezed in, like the white delicious cream in the Oreo crackers, between them, Tweak finally faced Craig. And **damn** did he look depressed — to Tweak… In reality, Craig was just deeper in thought about how much he'll have to pay to get the tattoo removed. The twitches came back. "C-Craig?" No response. "AW SWEET JESUS CHRIST! I'M SORRY, CRAIG! I —ngh!— DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!" Suddenly, the infamously known asshole looked up, hope amidst his confused eyes.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"GAH! U-U-UM! … The-the tattoo is cool too. And um… ARGH! TOO MUCH PRESSURE! CRAIG! I REALLY LIKE YOUR TATTOO OKAY! I THINK THAT SPIKE LOOKING LIKE A MONSTER CHASING AFTER RED RACER WHEN AN EXPLOSION HAPPENED IS THE MOST AWESOMEST TATTOO I'VE EVER SEEN! BUT I REALLY DON'T LIKE HOW IT'S ON YOUR STOMACH! I DON'T LIKE SOMETHING THAT CAN GIVE YOU INK POISONING AND COULD POSSIBLY CONTAIN AIDS SULLY YOUR PERFECT SKIN!" Instantly taking deep breaths, Tweak wobbled a little after his winded speech. Craig's eyes widened in amazement, astonishment, bewilderment, dumbfound, etc. Once he regained his senses, Tweak's shoulders touted up like a rope in a well being pulled up for the bucket of water, at the intense gaze of a dark-haired pessimist. "GAH! WHAT?"

A smirk tugged at Craig's lips. "'Perfect skin,' huh?" Tweak gulped then blushed as madly as Professor Chaos when he's maniacally cackling. Craig lightly laughed, reaching up to his very adorable boyfriend's face. Albeit the mixed emotions about his tattoo, Craig was just happy his little sunflower spoke out his mind.

The ferocious shaking came back when a question popped into Tweak's mind, "C-Craig?"

"Hmm?"

"W-Where —ngh!— did you e-even get the tattoo?"

That's right. With all the hype Clyde was giving, Craig forgot to tell the trio earlier that Kenny McCormick made a deal last week: he'd take Craig to an amazing tattoo artist who has decent prices for even poor people if — and only if — the stoic, expressionless teen would give the poorest highschooler in South Park his lunch money for a month. Noting that he didn't even eat much, despite his body mass, Craig agreed and was whimsically whisked away in a dirt-coated, dying truck to McCormick's favorite tattoo artist. But that's another story to tell Tweak at lunch.

Right now, the spaz was acutely tilting his head, and the light blush never left his cheeks. His thin, shaky hands were a few inches under his chin, folded in a nice prayer form; his light brown eyebrows were furrowed above his curious green eyes. The spaz even had an irresistible pout only children should make! Seriously, Tweak could either be mistaken as those cute Lolita girls or abandoned puppies in a box.

"Gah! C-Craig?" Once those soft, plump lips opened, Craig dove in for the smooch. "Mmph!" The sudden force of the heavier male made Tweak fall on his back at the bench, but Craig didn't let up. Three minutes passed by, each second depraved oxygen from their lungs, so Tweak repeatedly patted (smacked) Craig's back, signaling the dire need for air. When the kiss was broken, Tweak heavily panted like a dehydrated dog. That's two times already he nearly passed out from lack of oxygen in one morning, and it wasn't even close to lunchtime!

"You know, Tweak" Craig huffed yet his baritone voice remained at a seductive level, "you sounded just like a wife, by the way, when you panicked." And a metaphorical light bulb lit as brightly as the star Sirius in his mind.

-Boop-

3 weeks later:

"GAH! OH SWEET JESUS! C-CRAIG! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!" Tweak pointed directly at Craig's chest, particularly his left side.

"It's just another tattoo," Craig nonchalantly replied, shrugging.

"Woah! That one's even more cooler!" Clyde's hazel eyes lit up like the Christmas lights hanging outside under the cold night sky.

Token nodded, folding his arms to his chest, "I have to admit that one is a lot awesomer than the other one."

"ARGH! HOW CAN YOU —ngh!— GUYS SAY THAT?!" Tweak screamed, stressed over nothing.

Clyde plopped his arm around the almost hyperventilating blonde's shoulder, "Dude! Quit pulling your panties in a knot! Aren't you happy about this? It's like a marriage proposal!"

"Just say, 'yes,' Tweak. We still need a verbal agreement to plan the wedding," Token chuckled and so did Clyde and Craig. But the three were serious about this… They'll just wait until Tweak can react under some pressure normally.

"GAH! OH GOD! WHAT?!" Before Tweak could start yanking out his hair again and yell nonsensical things, Craig pulled him into a tight hug.

"Don't worry, Sunflower," Craig rested his chin on the soft yellow strands. "I'll make sure to leave enough room on my back for the kids." Finally, Tweak just fainted from all the stressful visions that drowned his quivering mind.

-Boop!-

On Craig's chest lies the commercialized heart symbol. It was shaded in deep vermillion, resembling actual blood; however, the tear-shaped drop at the very sharp tip of it was colored in a light shade of brown. Jutting out at its right side is what seems to be a coffee mug handle. At both sides of the heart, two white angel wings were attached to the heart, ready to whisk it away. And right smack dab in the middle, inked in bold black and written in fancy cursive, read "TWEAK T. TUCKER".

Among all the tattoos he has/will have, the one above his own heart is forever Craig's most prized tattoo.

-The End~-

So yeah… Tattoos. :I Anyways, that "Tweak T. Tucker" tattoo is a prophecy, not a proposal! In my mind at least~ ^U^ Lol! Welp, this is my FIRST Creek fanfic. (AND DANG IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I CONTRIBUTED ANYTHING ON THIS SITE!) I'm glad it actually remained as a oneshot! So proud of myself to being able to cut down on my wordiness! Um… I don't know what else to say other than I'm new to this ship, so please take care of me well, senpais! *bows down in reverence to those experienced here* I'll try to write more if any one just slightly likes my writings. :3 Bah-Bye! Have a wonderful life!


End file.
